The day of our last parting, the rain
refused to let up, pelting the window
pane in relentless waves. At least
it was something we could look at.
Necessary, for the best, not really
an end, I reasoned with dull anodynes.
Your head angled away in defiant rage,
you said nothing. I faltered. The rain
poured in gray sheets on the buildings
and billboards, blurring the contours
of the known, all faith suddenly infirm.
Your gaze fixed in the gray distance,
perhaps you saw something I couldn't.
Perhaps, maybe, if only. The minutes
stung like needles of rain. The clouds
conferred, lightning struck the gavel,
and the universe rumbled its verdict.
Nausheen Eusuf's poems have appeared in PN Review, Wasafiri, World Literature Today, and other journals.